here are some in Latin."
"How did you come to know?"
"Oh, he told me!" Bella bridled her head and half shut one eye that gave
her an unpleasant look of cunning. "He swore me not to tell and said
little girls were often better than big girls."
"And did you swear?" Primrose was horror-stricken.
"Well, I didn't say any wicked words. Some of the great ladies say, 'I
swear,' and the men often do, but it doesn't really mean anything when
you say it in French."
Primrose asked Patty about it.
"Swearing is swearing, whether you do it in French or Dutch. What put
such nonsense in thy head? I think the French a wicked language anyhow,
and I don't see why madam wants thee to jabber any such gibberish."
"It's very hard and I don't believe I ever shall," said the child with a
sigh.
"The better grace for thee then."
Bella was quite wise and precocious and learning ways of fashion
rapidly. She stood a little in awe of Madam Wetherill and could be very
demure when she saw that it was the part of wisdom. Occasionally she
made Primrose a tacit partner in some reprehensible matter in a way that
the child could not protest against. And then Bella laughed at her love
for birds and flowers and was always talking about finery and repeating
the flattering things that were said to her. And she much preferred
listening to the ladies and the gallants to gathering flowers or hearing
the birds singing in the trees.
One day Andrew came. Everything was better at Cherry Hill, and her uncle
thought now it was time for her to come.
"Why, is your father getting about so soon?" asked Madam Wetherill in
surprise.
"Oh, no, indeed! He mends but slowly. Still he wishes to do his duty,
and I think he broods over it more than is good for him. So my mother
proposed to him that the little maid should be sent for, and he was
eager at once. And he wished me to say if it was not too inconvenient to
thee I would bring her back. I have a pillion."
"Nay, the child knows so little about riding. I meant to have her
instructed this summer. And there would be some garments to take. I
cannot get them ready so soon. And I am afraid she will bother thy
people sadly. Thou hadst better return and explain this. I will drive
over in a few days and bring her. Meanwhile thou art warm and tired.
Rest and refresh thyself a little. I think the children are roaming in
the woods, but, like the chickens, they are sure to come home to
supper."
Andrew Henry
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